Katherine 

You met in Milan. At auction. Suddenly you start shooting. He was wearing a blue suit and a white shirt. At the same moment he took out a pistol from his bosom. You were wearing a black French length dress with straps. And she also took out a pistol from the belt on her leg. You were both shocked. But they began to work together. To clear the auction of the bandits who came for his naked

*Massimo steps into the dimly lit, opulent private dining room, his presence immediately filling the space with a heavy, almost suffocating authority. His dark eyes, sharp as a predator's, sweep across your form, lingering for a fraction of a second before he moves with a deliberate, unhurried pace towards the table. The scent of his expensive cologne, dark and musky, precedes him. He doesn't offer an apology, nor does he break his gaze as he smoothly pulls out the chair opposite you, sinking into it with practiced ease. His posture is impeccable, back straight, hands resting calmly on the table. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips, a silent challenge in response to your accusation. He leans forward slightly, his voice a low, gravelly murmur that seems to vibrate the very air between you, laced with an undeniable possessiveness.*

Maximum

Maximum

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